Her Euphie
by peanutbutter126
Summary: She wasn't fond of her when she was born, but by the time she was learning her name, Cornelia was learning to love her sister unconditionally.


Her Euphie

The constant wail was an annoyance.

Cornelia li Britannia found herself scowling as she leaned against the frame of the gold-plated doors that gated her mother's quarters from access. Not _her _access, though the princess decided then and there that she would rather be on the other side of those heavy doors. That way she wouldn't have to listen to the shrieking cries that attacked her ears.

"Your Highness?"

Cornelia glanced at the maid. "How is my mother?"

The young woman had the grace to smile. "Her Majesty is resting and will be well looked after. In the meantime… would you like to meet your new sister?" Before Cornelia could scorn upon the suggestion, the source of the screams that had been the cause of her grief for the past few minutes was brought forward.

For a moment, Cornelia just stared, valiantly ignoring the crumbling defences of her eardrums. The newborn was naked save for the white towel that wound across its tiny body. Its eyes were squeezed shut, but the same could not be said for its mouth, which was wide open in an endless wail.

Her sister was… ugly.

The maid holding her was obviously dismayed by the small bundle's unrelenting volume and dry tears. She rocked and cooed consistently, but the baby continued to cry, and somewhere in between looking around for her mother and escape, Cornelia found herself trapped with an armful of little sister and a haggard-looking maid beaming at her.

The baby had stopped crying.

And was staring up at her with wide eyes.

Cornelia blinked and watched as a small arm untangled from the covers and reached for her face. The tiny digits were coated with a thin layer of blood that, no doubt, their mother had spilled for her.

Disgusted, the princess thrust the bundle back at the maid, catching the woman by such surprise that she almost dropped the baby. By the time she had ceased fumbling, the doors were already closing behind Cornelia, and the words "I will be back later," were all she caught before they shut completely.

The baby started to cry again.

* * *

But Cornelia didn't return until almost a week later.

She wouldn't have if not for Odysseus and Schneizel; both of them had seen to their newly born half-sister. It wasn't their insistence that in the end pushed her to weave her way to her sister's room, but rather her pride. Cornelia was only related to her brothers by a small link of blood through their father, and it irked her that they, half-related as they were, had expressed concern for their new sister when she hadn't.

For some reason, being a 'big sister' didn't appeal that much to Cornelia.

Babies were unpredictable. They threw tantrums wherever they liked, whenever they liked. Unlike the Knightmare frames that Cornelia was just learning to manage, they would not abide by her demands and the pull of a lever.

They were soft and breakable, and Cornelia li Britannia wasn't known for being gentle.

It was ridiculous, she thought as she strode into the room, how much effort had been put into adorning a child's room, especially when said child could only stare uncomprehendingly at them. Cornelia had to brush aside several drapes before she could truly enter the room, and even when she did, she had to brace herself against waves of bright colours that were splashed across the walls and ceiling.

It was so childish that it made her feel older than her eleven years.

The cot that contained her sister was set in the middle of the room. Already, set in the corner, was a bed that awaited use in years to come. Cornelia sat down on the bed, creasing the immaculate covers, looking around at the room.

She had ordered for the maids to leave for the time being, so that she would be entitled to her own silence. Silence… it was strange how _silent _it was.

With an almost ridiculous air of caution, Cornelia got up and made her way to the cot. Ornaments of some sort hovered over the small bed, obviously meant to entertain the baby it contained. It seemed to be doing quite a good job. The newborn gazed at the spinning objects with such curiosity and naïve amazement that Cornelia was almost hesitant to lean over and screen the adornment from her sister's view.

But as soon as she did, the child's face lit up and she grabbed at the strands of hair that Cornelia had let fall over her shoulder. Gently, she prised her hair from the grip and held it back as she looked down at the baby.

Without the bloody membrane congealing on her pale skin, the child was much more acceptable to look at. Small tufts of hair the colour of a pale rose were sprouting from the top of her head; Cornelia fingered the locks thoughtfully.

_Euphemia li Britannia… _what did she mean to her? Another sibling, one more closely related to her by blood than her brothers, of course. But also… competition? Technically, Guinevere was first in line for the females of their family, but such position could be replaced if Cornelia proved that she was more worthy of the title.

Not that she cared.

However, Euphemia would certainly change things.

Cornelia's finger trailed down, lightly brushing over her sister's smooth skin. Euphemia gurgled with pleasure and grasped the digit with both of her tiny hands, grinning a toothless smile.

"Euphemia," Cornelia murmured.

Her sister was beautiful… and fragile.

It was easy to see. There was no need to wait for the future – Cornelia could see it before her. Euphemia's fingers would grow to be long and slender, and they would sooner be acquainted with the lacquered keys of a piano than the smooth controls of a Knightmare.

She was born to be weak.

Cornelia decisively withdrew her hand, pulling away from her sister. The young child blinked as if in confusion, her lower lip trembling. Shortly after Cornelia turned away, the baby started crying. Again.

As she called for the maids and left the room, Cornelia was certain of one thing; she didn't like her sister very much.

She was too loud.

* * *

She was too quiet, too still.

Cornelia paused and traced her steps back. She stared. The cause of the maids' frantic searches was… lying on her back behind a hydrangea bush.

It wasn't the choice of location that caught Cornelia's attention, however. No, it was her sister's lack of movement and sound. She lay on her back as if she were staring up at the sky, cloud-watching. But she couldn't be. For one, no three-year-old would grasp the concept of tracking cloud movement, and even if they could, it was highly unlikely that they did it with their eyes closed.

Add that to her naturally pale skin and she looked… lifeless.

Well aware that she was already late for an appointment, Cornelia stepped over the bush, ignoring the way the ends of her dress got caught on the greenery, and leaned over her sister, frowning. No, her chest was rising… "What are you doing?"

At the sound of her voice, Euphemia opened her eyes and smiled up at her. "Hello, big sister."

Cornelia nodded in acknowledgement. As the years had stretched on, Euphemia's eyes had taken on a peculiar shade of pale blue and violet. They were mesmerising to look at but it wasn't often that Cornelia found herself staring into them. She shook her head lightly. "What are you doing, Euphemia?" she asked again.

"I wanted to get out," the young girl replied, sitting up. "The sun is warm."

"Half the palace is looking for you."

Euphemia's small shoulders dropped. "Oh. I didn't know…"

"It doesn't matter. Come on, I'll take you back." Cornelia leaned over and picked up her sister, brushing down the girl's dress. "Don't run off like that, Euphemia. There may be intruders in the grounds."

A small hand slipped into hers as they walked. Briefly surprised, Cornelia glanced down with a raised eyebrow. Euphemia merely responded with a bright smile and started to skip lightly. "Big sister?" she began.

"Yes?"

"What is your name?"

Cornelia stopped. Under her sister's curious gaze, she shook her head and continued walking. It made sense… in a way. Being only three, Euphemia was not yet educated in the ways of remembering names, and it wasn't like Cornelia saw her constantly enough for hers to remain in the child's memory.

"Cornelia," she said finally. "Cornelia li Britannia."

"Bri…Britan…" Euphemia stumbled over the word.

"li Britannia," Cornelia enunciated slowly.

The small face scrunched up. "Why's it so long?"

She felt like laughing. "_You're_ talking… Euphemia li Britannia."

She was met with a blank stare. "Is that my full name?"

"That's right."

"But it's so _long_."

"We bear the name of royalty, that is why."

"Huh?"

"You'll understand one day, Euphemia."

"Oh, okay… can we make my name shorter?"

Cornelia blinked. The palace was in sight now, and the maids that frantically scoured the grounds could be seen. She stopped. "Why would you want that?"

Euphemia lightly swung her hand. "It's so hard to say. Can we make it shorter, big sister, can we?"

"If it pleases you." Cornelia found herself chuckling, and caught herself quickly. Schneizel commonly informed her how cold and distant she was, and Guinevere made it no secret that she disapproved of her sister's harsh demeanour. What would they say if they heard Cornelia li Britannia _laughing_? "How short would you like it?"

Her sister paused for a moment to think about it. "Short," she finally chirped.

Cornelia smiled and lightly combed her fingers through Euphemia's rosette locks. "Euphemia…" she pondered aloud. Then she smiled. "How about… Euphie?"

"Uffy?"

This time, Cornelia laughed freely. "No; Euphie." She enunciated carefully, with patience she didn't believe she possessed.

"Euphie?"

"Yes. Do you like it?"

The smile seemed to make the flowers surrounding them colourless. "Uh huh!" Euphemia responded happily. Cornelia smiled and they resumed walking. As the first of the maids noticed them and hurried toward them with relief apparent on their faces, the younger of the sisters tugged on the elder's hand.

"Big sister?"

"Yes, Euphie?" It was easier to smile now, but she was careful to hide it from the maids.

"Can I call you Corny?"

And suddenly, it was all too easy to snarl. "No."

Euphemia seemed to cower away from her, and Cornelia blinked. "Sorry," she said in a soft voice. She picked up her sister and settled her on her hip. "It's just that I... I like my name long."

The smile returned quickly. "Okay."

"Do you like your name long?"

"No. I like Euphie."

Cornelia smiled. "I like Euphie, too."


End file.
